And Glory
by DragonnadeDoctrine
Summary: Apollyon's been dead for seven years, but war still rages on. The heroes of the Knights, Vikings, and Samurai must come together to forge that which Apollyon sought to destroy- Peace. But beyond the horizon, a fourth power stirs, seeking to have the world for its own. Note: F!Orochi, M!Warden, M!Raider
1. Prologue

Holden Cross, laying on the floor, head bare of his helmet- ground out the next word like it pained him.

"Peace."

Stigandr growled, the tip of the sword he held in his rough, calloused hands drifting closer and closer to Cross' throat. The Lawbringer himself seemed unafraid, eyes fixed and unwavering on the Viking Jarl's own, making no move to defend himself. The flickering of the flames from the braziers casted long shadows, and Ichi did nothing but watch, more than slightly irritated at the "Lord Warden", for not appearing in person. Impassively, she tilted her head slightly to look at Stigandr. She would not stop the Viking. Samurai understood revenge very well.

The huge, bear of a man met her gaze as well, blade still poised to spill Cross' lifeblood.

Then, snarling with enough ferocity it seemed the bear upon his helm was the one voicing its displeasure, Stigandr turned away from the supine form of Cross, shaking his head and muttering Nordic curses under his breath as he did so.

Striding some paces away, as if to get a breath of the cooler night air, he stopped before the pillars, to turn back, sword dangling at his hip.

Moment passed, Ichi took a half step towards Cross, and extended a hand. After a brief moment of hesitation, Cross took the gloved palm, and allowed a brief look of surprise to flit across his weathered features at the strength in her grip, before straightening.

At his full height, Cross was much taller than Ichi was, and combined with his imposing armor, Ichi could understand why so many feared the name Holden Cross. But, she wasn't the Emperor's Champion for nothing.

Fear had no place, here. Only rational thought.

Still, Ichi couldn't help the vitriol that filled her reply.

"Peace."

Overcome by a sudden bout of anger, welling up within her, at the thought of _so many_ of her people, bodies broken and bloodied, laying on the ground because of that cursed Apollyon's machinations, Ichi sharply turned and paced towards a brazier, her fine features twisted into an ugly frown.

Before she could speak, Stigandr's rough voice made her and Cross turn.

"Even if it were possible… we're no peacemakers!" the Viking said, with a low chop of his open hand.

And it was true.

The three of them only knew war.

Holden Cross, the mightiest of the Lawbringers, one of the deadliest knights known to Ashfeld.

Stigandr, the new Jarl of the Warborn Vikings, who had regained his power and reputation upon leading the Great Raid.

And her, Ichi, the Emperor's Champion, the best swordswoman of the Dawn Empire, who had been thrown into prison for speaking out of turn.

But still.

They had to try.

"Is it an unworthy goal?"

Ichi had the feeling she was asking herself as much as she was wanting for the opinions of Cross and Stigandr. Peace. It was what they had been fighting for. What they had tried to achieve, after Apollyon's demise. But failed to do.

Seven years.

Seven years of fighting, and killing, and dying.

"Well, no- but…" the Viking ventured, Cross content to listen.

All they knew was war… but they all knew, enough was enough. No more blood would be spilled. Not if they had anything to say about it…

Stigandr turned back towards the sky, with the stars twinkling brilliantly against the inky blue-blackness of space. A small smile, so small Ichi might have missed it if she hadn't been looking at the Jarl's face, graced Stigandr's lips.

It was silent.

The crackling of the wood within the fires were the only noises, their guards absent for the meeting, and without the clatter of armor and weapons, nature reigned supreme.

"Is... this how it starts?"

Yes.

Ichi fixed Cross, then Stigandr with her gaze, stepping closer to the both of them.

"It would have to start with us," she murmured, injecting as much confidence and determination into the words as she could.

Because who else would?

Who else could?

"We will die in this attempt. You know that," Cross interjected, tone exceedingly grim.

Ichi spared him a glance. Of course. There would always be those who would oppose peace. But if her life would bring tranquility to the world… she would gladly give it.

She was prepared for death when she spoke in the Emperor's court.

She was prepared for death when she handed her katana to Seijuro.

She was prepared for death when she faced down Apollyon.

And she would be prepared, should peace require her to die, so that others may be saved.

Stigandr's smile turned into a grin, as the grizzled Viking put one booted foot forward and stepped closer.

"But it would make a worthy tale."


	2. Chapter 1: Politics

AN: A bit of politics and info dump for now. Don't worry, we'll get to the fighting bits later.

It was times like these that Ichi remembered exactly why she had hated politics.

Sitting silently to the left of one of her most trusted friends and most stalwart allies, the Daimyo-turned Empress Ayu, the Orochi's years of rigorous training was the only thing keeping her from fidgeting uncomfortably in her formal _kimono._ The damn clothing pinched in all the wrong places, and was downright uncomfortable to be in. Still, with a calm mien, no one, save Ayu, could tell Ichi's immense displeasure.

A slight twitch of her finger was the only outward sign of irritation Ichi allowed herself, but Ayu caught the motion nonetheless, and sent a sly grin, prompting Ichi to sit up straighter in response.

If only these _idiots_ would stop _whining_.

The squabbling these clan heads were engaging in was getting old. Ichi had made a token effort to listen at first, but now had to make a conscious effort to remain focused upon the proceedings.

To his credit, Seijuro seemed calm and collected. Outwardly. Sitting serenely, legs crossed, arms resting lightly on his knees, his garb of the subdued greens of his clan made him a picture perfect example of a model samurai. Ichi did catch his gaze flicking towards his katana every now and then, though. If Momiji were here, she'd be laughing her guts out at Ichi and Seijuro forced into such a setting.

Ayu was supremely comfortable, sitting upon the elevated platform of the Empress, leaning almost lazily upon the armrest at her side. She had hit the ground running upon claiming the title of Empress. With the entire Royal Family dead by Apollyon's hands, no one had opposed her ascendancy to the position, and with the backing of both Ichi _and_ Seijuro, no one could even attempt to voice an opposition. Indeed, resplendent in the white and gold of the Empress, combined with the deep blue of her clan, Ayu exuded a gravitas that commanded respect and attention.

It was this aura of authority the former Daimyo used to _finally_ , shut those roosters up.

"Silence."

With a simple wave of her closed fan, and a sweep of the room with her sharp gaze, Ayu controlled the room. Not that she had ever relinquished control of it to begin with.

Expectantly, the clan heads all turned to look up at the Empress, who shifted her posture into a suitably imperious one, reflexively forcing all present to straighten their spines.

"Clan Head Tomita, you will be held responsible for the removal of the bandits within your territory. Clan Head Wakisaka, you were right to be cautious of pursuing the bandits into Tomita land, to avoid provoking conflict. This is decided."

Said Clan Head Tomita, a man in his early thirties with a rather impressive beard, carefully schooled his scarred features into one of acquiesce. By Ichi's estimates, he looked unhappy with the decision, but would respect it. Clan Head Wakisaka, a young woman of perhaps twenty, breathed a short sigh of relief.

All these petty squabbles between clans.

Right now, there were no Daimyo, asides from Seijuro. Apollyon had rounded up and killed all of the respectable, honorable Daimyo in her sacking of the Royal Palace. She had then tossed the war criminals and warlords into the swamp, to fight each other for the title of Emperor. Ayu had killed them all, and Seijuro had taken care of the rest. Upon becoming Empress, Ayu had offered Ichi land and the title of Daimyo, but the Orochi had refused- she was a katana. The Emperor's Champion. She would never be a lord, and she was fine with that.

Gradually, ever so gradually, Ayu had begun the process of organizing what rabble was left into coherent states, and recently had begun calling the regional clan heads in, for their possible appointment to the authority of Daimyo.

So far, only a few had proven likely candidates- like that Clan Head Wakisaka. Young, naive, yet true of heart, she would make a good liege, in time.

But time was something they didn't have.

As of now, The Dawn Empire were still at war with the Vikings and the Knights of Ashfeld. Though the leaders of the respective nations, Jarl Stigandr, Empress Ayu, and Lord Warden Connor, harbored no enmities, their people had fallen into all out war, first in the battlements of Apollyon's Blackstone fortress, and now, in all of the land.

Peace needed to happen- now. Before they all tore themselves apart, just like Apollyon had predicted.

Ichi had been meeting with Haraldr, Stigandr's right hand Raider, and Cross, the Lord Warden's right hand Lawbringer, in the cover of darkness in abandoned keeps over the past few months. Exchanging information and tidings, they desperately sought a way to bring the fighting to an end.

They still hadn't found a solution.

Infighting reigned, with grudges erupting into open combat left and right. The general population had allowed a deep hatred to fester within them, against the two nations that fought them. But one of the biggest problems was the ideals that they held.

Stagnant for over thousands of years in a perpetual state of war, to most, the thought of peace was unfathomable. How could they join hands with their most hated enemy? Those who had pillaged and killed enough to make all the rivers of the world run red with blood?

Ayu dismissed the meeting, and the clan heads bowed, then stood to leave, each murmuring amongst themselves with thoughts of the congregation. Ichi and Seijuro remained sitting, though they relaxed their posture slightly.

"Well?" the Empress said, though the sound came out as much a word as it did a sigh.

Seijuro shook his head from side to side, his upper lip curling into the slightest of sneers. Ayu turned to Ichi, and the Orochi did the same, shaking her head minutely. Ayu laughed, lightly tapping her armrest with her fingers as she did so. Absently opening and closing her fan, she waved towards a paper door with her other hand, which immediately opened to reveal a man carrying three cups of green tea. The beverages were placed at their feet, and as one, they lifted the cup, turned it twice, then sipped thrice, in the customary form of _sado._ The man bowed deeply, then left the way he came, the sliding door hitting the frame with a small tap of wood.

The tea was rejuvenating, and Ichi inhaled the soothing scent deeply, before setting the container down before her.

"Ichi. Your next meeting?"

Ayu meant the meeting with the Raider and the Lawbringer. It was scheduled for the first day of the next week, in an abandoned castle. Ichi told her Empress as much, and Ayu hummed, nodding. Ayu didn't like sending Ichi out alone, but, as the Emperor's Champion, she knew Ichi could handle almost anything that came her way. After all, Ichi was already the best samurai in the Dawn Empire, and had beaten not only the current Lord Warden, but Apollyon as well.

"Be careful, yes?"

Ichi moved the container of green tea to the side and bowed deeply, pressing both palms to the floor and stopping just shy of touching her forehead as well.

"Of course, Empress."

Though she couldn't see him she could hear Seijuro let out a rare snort of amusement.

"She can take care of herself."

Yes. Ichi agreed.


End file.
